


No coming back

by lheadley



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hint of Sterek, M/M, Pre-Slash, The only way the major character death and changing TW titles should take place, This is the one character in the title sequence we can afford to let die, Though it might hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 23:12:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1204057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lheadley/pseuds/lheadley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was a major character, who had touched the lives of every member of the pack in some way, and now he was infected with the supernatural. He had to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No coming back

Stiles stared in horrified fascination at the… thing… before him. Somehow, and Stiles had no clue how, some kind of supernatural horror had possessed his friend. There was an angry roar from just yards away, and the bright light in his friend’s eyes seemed to glow with a malevolent intent. After a brief moment of comparative calm a rumbling growl broke the silence of the night, replete with evil intentions, and Stiles knew with a clarity brought about by the adrenaline of blind terror what was going to happen. He plastered himself closer to the wall behind him, closed his eyes and screwed up his face to await the inevitable dismemberment that would mark the end of Stiles Stilinski.

He barely had time to draw in a ragged breath, with a brief fleeting stab of pain at what his father would feel when he was called to examine the body, when Stiles heard a sudden screech – not a human screech (not that that meant anything in his Halloween existence, of course), but more like the sound of rubber on asphalt. Opening his left eye a fraction, he saw a confused blur and a blaze of headlights. A familiar car was careering around the corner, and with a crunching sound that was sickeningly final Stiles watched as Derek’s Camaro ploughed straight into his friend.

There was a final grinding roar of pain, a choking noise, and then the light in his friend’s eyes flickered briefly and was gone. Stiles stared slack mouthed, almost numb, as a dark viscous fluid slowly spread out from the corpse in front of him as it lay forlornly on its side.

Suddenly a wave of memories washed over Stiles, a romcom montage of all the times they had spent together. With Lydia at the prom. With Allison, searching for Lydia after she had fled from the hospital. The time they had stopped Mrs McCall going on a date with Peter – working seamlessly as a team. Even saving that douche Jackson from his Kanima form. Countless times with dad. Helping Derek, back when Derek still scared him. Every part of the pack seemed to have been touched by…Stiles gave a sniff. He could not believe that his friend was dead – but one look made it clear that there was no coming back from this. A small choked sound of distress escaped Stiles’s throat.

There was a clunking sound as the Camaro passenger door was flung open, and a bare chested, half transformed werewolf charged towards Stiles. The sight of the contorted, crumpled body before him was obscured as Stiles was pulled into a tight hug. Gasping for breath, Stiles could feel the gentle stroking motion of Scott’s thumb against his back, and heard Scott muttering incoherent sounds of relief. A fresh wave of sadness broke over Stiles, as he remembered all the times he and Scott had shared together with… before and after the bite. Stiles half lifted a hand to gesture in the direction of the mangled corpse in front of him and made a distressed cry.

“Roscoe….”

Scott patted his back.

“I know bro. But there was no other way. It was possessed, evil. We had to destroy it, or it would have smashed you to pieces. You’re OK, that’s the main thing.”

Stiles nodded. It was just a jeep. But Roscoe was more than that. Roscoe had been a main character in all the dramas of their lives over the past year. He averted his eyes from the crushed mass of blue metal.

Suddenly he felt another arm around his waist, a gentle sideways hug which seemed to combine sympathy and perhaps a sense of caring as well. Scott disentangled himself in a completely ineffective attempt at tact, and moved off a few yards to contemplate the growing pool of Roscoe’s oil leak.

“I’m sorry, Stiles. It was the only way.” Derek was trying for gruff reassurance. With a sudden gesture, so fleeting Stiles was not sure it had happened, Derek leant across to brush Stiles’s cheek with a kiss. “But, once he is fixed” Derek gestured towards the Camaro, with its crumpled front steaming in the cold night air “I’ll share Jeff with you.”


End file.
